Miranda POV The next two days went by as slowly as humanly possible. That day after hanging up the phone with Joel, I hung out with Amanda and we worked on letters of our own to send into the Virginia Parole Board along with wrangling some other friends that Amanda and I gathered up from our art classes and wine nights to write letters, too. All were friends and acquaintances who we knew are active in supporting causes such as judicial system injustices, unfair sentencing, etc. so they were happy to help us out. The next morning, I woke up to the sound of banging and Beebs barking and growling at the front door. “Who the hell is waking us up on a Saturday morning?” I asked Beebs as I walked toward the door, still wearing my night shirt and slippers. As if she could answer me even if she knew. I peek out the side window and see a familiar face, holding a steaming paper cup sporting the logo from my favorite coffee shop up the road. I eagerly opened the door, grabbing the cup as I
Joel POV I turned back on my music and kicked back on the bed again. I opened my emails; they were from Miranda of course, and I started to read. They were short because the longer ones seemed to drag ass getting to where they should. Heaven forbid the emails work like normal emails out there. She had sent a nice little card wishing me luck tomorrow for the parole interview. The other email mentioned that she was going to sleep and letting me know that she couldn't wait for the day that she could lay her head on my chest and drift off to sleep listening to my heart beat. The thought made me smile. The doors opened and a few people walked by waving. Everyone knew that parole interviews were taking place this week, making everyone nervous and reserved contemplating their possible release. The doors closed again and time seemed to creep by so fucking slowly today.Finally, the intercom buzzed. "Johnson," I heard through the static. "Time for your parole interview. Get dressed and rep
Miranda POV Mondays are my least favorite day of the week. Not only do I have to wake up two hours earlier than on the weekend, but it also usually takes me half a day to get my mind back on track mentally with the language project. If I had any other job, it probably wouldn't take so long, however, the complexities of the dialectical differences are so important in my work, even a minor mistake could have disastrous results and could set us back months. Today is especially sucky since I know Joel is going through his parole interview and I am worried about the result. The only way I can describe it is as a feeling of helplessness. Even though we just found out two days ago that he was even up for parole, it seems that as soon as that information hit my prefrontal cortex, I immediately started making plans for our future. Fantasies about coming home to him after a long day at work, eating dinners together and relaxing with Beebs on the couch have filled my daydreams. At night, im
Joel POV I heard the lights click on and I peeked out from under the shirt I used to block the light from my eyes. I was assaulted by the brightness and then yelling over the pod intercom. “It's five thirty gentlemen. We have fifteen minutes before count. Today there will be a standing count and you will need to be properly dressed as there will be a female on the floor.”"God, I wish they would shut the fuck up." I hear Shotgun growl. I agree, but I just groan and roll over, facing the wall and covering back up my head. "It's that asshole Jones working today." I mumbled. I put on my shorts, t-shirt, socks, and slides on, thinking the same thing he normally does. I cannot bear to stand barefoot on the concrete. If I have to stand like that, I will stand on the sides of my feet. I also cannot stand the feel of cotton balls, q tips or the way Styrofoam rubs together. That is also why I don't eat popcorn, squeaks on my teeth. When I was younger, I saw an occupational therapist who
Miranda POV I sit in a rental car outside the gates of the Virginia State prison and wait for the bus to drop off Joel. After hearing about his parole approval, I decided I wanted to be there for his first day out and once the details were released, I requested time off from work and booked my travel arrangements. I mean, I don't know for sure what this day means, but I thought it might be one of those special days a person would always remember like your prom or your wedding day, and I wanted to be a part of that memory. When I told him I wanted to come, he did seem happy or maybe he was relieved. Maybe I am overthinking this whole thing and it would be just another day of his life or worse, a day of stress and uncertainty. Either way, here I am. I also can't deny the thought that after over ten years the man might be horny and if anyone should reap the benefits of that, then it might as well be me. There’s definitely enough sexual tension between us. If all else fails, at lea
Joel POV I sat across the table from Miranda at McDonalds. I know it sounds terrible, but yes, this is what I wanted for my first meal out. Something I had missed, yet I knew would be recognizable and familiar. Miranda got up to place our order at the counter and I watched her walk across the dining room. Damn, she has a nice ass. I placed my back to a window so I could have a view of the whole dining room and I watched Miranda like a hawk as she stood in line, people standing too close to her for my liking, but I had to understand that out here, things were different. I didn't always have to choose the defensive position, eyes toward the door, in case something terrible went down. Out here people in general were disrespectful and didn't understand personal space, but it wasn't intentional or dangerous, it was just an example of their poor pragmatic skills. I remind myself it wouldn't be beneficial to her or me if I overreact to someone standing too close or bumping me. Then aga
Joel POV Miranda walked into the room and set her purse down on the night table. I followed her all the way in, staring at her beautiful little ass. I turned around and closed the door, being sure to lock the deadbolt. The hotel was nice and in a nice area, but the last thing I needed was any hotel cleaning staff coming in unannounced. As I turned back around, Miranda was right in front of me, giving me a little push so I allowed her to push me against the door. Her lips crashed into mine, forcing her tongue into my mouth, and moaning as I accepted it. As her tongue played with mine, my body couldn't help but immediately respond as all the blood rushed to my dick.I reached around her body and grabbed her perfect ass and pulled her tight to me. She moaned in response as she ground herself against my engorged cock. Her hands pulled my shirt out of my pants, and she ran her hands up my stomach, then explored my chest until it moved down to my belt.Both our motions were frantic, year
Joel POV I dropped to my knees in between her legs and pushed them apart. Her hands ran through my hair and I tentatively ran a finger between her lips. They were plump and I could smell her arousal. My cock was spent, but he quickly responded to his next adventure, twitching as blood started to once again move south. Now, I have seen some pussy before I got locked up, and a lot of pussy in magazines, but I have never seen a prettier pussy that the one in front of me at this moment.As I leaned forward, Miranda gently pulled me towards her core and I inhaled her deeply. How could she smell so delicious? I touched the inside of her knees, slowly pushing her legs further apart. I licked slowly up her slit, tasting her sweetness and her hips jerked up in response. I couldn't help but smile when I noticed how heavily she was breathing. I sucked on her pussy lips like I was kissing her and pushed my tongue into her, causing her to cry out and pull my face tighter to her sex. Her hips ro